


Only the Pretty Ones

by latinaeinstein (oneforyourfire)



Category: EXO (Band)
Genre: M/M, Strippers & Strip Clubs
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-12-15
Updated: 2018-12-15
Packaged: 2019-09-19 18:26:51
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,717
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17006853
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/oneforyourfire/pseuds/latinaeinstein
Summary: He's beautiful, and Tao, Tao needs to see this





	Only the Pretty Ones

**Author's Note:**

> another 2014 fic
> 
> exotic dancer takes his patron home au

The lights dim. The music crescendos. And Tao, Tao has a front row seat.

He tips his head back, swallows thickly. Watches, drink in his hand, heart in his throat, as the night’s main attraction Xiumin—slight, sensual, _sinful_ —steps out on stage.

Tao’s almost, almost just maybe in love. Has been since that fateful bachelor party three months ago. Xiumin had leaned forward that night, establishing eye contact as he’d cupped his hand—delicate, fucking _graceful_ —over the forceful thrust of his hips. And Tao, Tao had been fucked.

It’s not always the same song, but Xiumin likes his music loud, bass-heavy, _filthy_. Tao can feel it pounding in his veins, mixing with the lust, with the alcohol, with the _need_. And Tao, Tao barely makes it out alive most Friday nights.

And it’s a routine—one that Tao’s been witness time and time and time again, but Xiumin is so fucking _captivating_ , beautiful, and perfect. Pink haired, dark eyed, soft cheeked. Fitted in a black, sleek suit, his pants and shirt obscenely form-fitting, stretched tight over the counters of his body. Xiumin steps towards center stage. He unbuttons his cuffs, hips keeping time with the music.

The audience roars as he drags his hands over his chest, pulling out his shirt tails, fabric pooling. And Xiumin’s every move is slow, sinuous.

He peels off his pressed white shirt, pauses mid bodyroll with his thumbs hooked into the waistband of his pants to smirk. He cups his crotch instead, rolls into it. The roar of the others in the audience is background noise as he catches Xiumin’s eyes.

Tao wants to be caged beneath him, leaving hickeys, panting into that warm soft neck, Xiumin grinding against him—high school style—until they both come.

It’s pathetic, he thinks. Body tense, eyes rapt at Xiumin’s every smooth roll, every tight pop. Visits always have this stale aftertaste of cigarette smoke and overpriced vodka, the thick film of it shameful and residual. But he’s drunk on the glitter of stage lights off Xiumin’s skin as he grinds to the music. He’s fucking hooked on watching the way the shadows play across the sleek definition of his gyrating body.

And Tao likes the warmth of Xiumin’s soft forbidden skin as Tao’s eager fingers slide down towards the band of his booty shorts. Likes the slow grinds of his lithe body. Likes the delicate promise of his small hands, thin wrists, pouty lips.

He’s beautiful. And Tao, Tao needs to see this.

Xiumin kicks off his pants. Until he’s dressed in just his leather shorts. They’re gold. Tight tight _tight_.

 

Tao’s been here enough times, given enough money for Xiumin to recognize his face, know his name. Smirk as he struts towards him.

 

Xiumin falls onto his lap, nosing at his cheekbone, whispering into his skin as he rocks down onto Tao’s thighs. And the intimacy of it is hot and heady and confusing. He grinds down, arms draped across Tao’s shoulders, and he can see—Tao knows he can see—where Tao is stirring in interest, straining against his pants. He smiles down at him, drags his ass across it, and Tao's breath hitches. Tao’s hands tighten around his hipbones, the skin warm, smooth, soft, as Xiumin writhes above him. Some of the body glitter dusting Xiumin’s abs smears across his palms as he tries to guide his pace.

But Xiumin is stronger, more forceful. Continues to move. To beat probably, Tao thinks dazedly, but he can’t hear anything beyond the white noise of his own pulse pounding in his ears. He braves a hand, curling it around Xiumin’s ass, and the dancer laughs, arching toward it briefly before reaching back to place it on his waist once more. And Tao’s hands clench and unclench as Xiumin undulates more deliberately, applying delicious direct friction to Tao’s cock.

“You think you’ve paid enough to touch me there, Tao?”

Tao’s mouth falls open. “I—I just—”

“ _Want_. You _want_ —me. But do you think you can handle me?”

Tao whimpers—low, needy—as he tightens his fingers, but he knows Xiumin’s heard it by the soft laugh he presses against his cheekbone. Xiumin’s warm chest, hard nipples drag across the front of Tao’s shirt.

“You’re so pretty,” he says against Tao’s skin. “So pretty and flustered. But you still want to take me home, right?” His lips shift, drag over his earlobe. His face is burning. His skin is trembling. He murmurs out a yes. “ _Ask_ me then, Tao.”

“When do you—when do you get off?”

“That depends,” Xiumin says, the flutter of his eyelashes tickling against Tao’s ear. “How good are you?”

Tao gapes, chokes. Xiumin smirks.

“All talk, no follow-through,” Xiumin tsks. “And here, I thought—”

“I want—” His voice comes out in a whine as Xiumin’s hand drops down, thumb flicking briefly over a nipple.

“Dont waste my time, Tao. Do you think I let just _anyone_? Hm? Think I’m that easy to please?”

Tao shakes his head dumbly, moans as Xiumin presses down more firmly. One hand still teasing over a nipple, the other sifting through Tao’s hair as he sits firmly, perfectly on Tao’s erection.

“No no no only the really pretty ones, Tao. And you’re so pretty.” Tao groans. “And only the ones—the ones that look like they know what they’re doing. Did I misread you?”

Tao swallows thickly, grabs Xiumin’s ass again. More fully this time, so he’s pressed flush and _hard_ —Xiumin, Xiumin is hard, too—against Tao’s body.

“Twenty minutes,” he whispers.

“Xiumin,” Tao starts, voice small and reedy, lips dry, tongue thick, skin tight.

“Minseok,” he drawls back, lips curling into a smirk. “Minseok, that’s my _real_ name. That’s the name you’ll be moaning later.”

Tao, dazed, takes another swig of his overpriced drink, as he watches him walk away.

 

Twenty minutes sees one trip to the bar to close his tab. Another to the bathroom to splash water on his face because you can do this. You can. You _can_. And one extra jittery Tao, lingering outside the club entrance, breath visible in the chilly night air as he shivers in his clothes, waits waits waits for Xiu— _Minseok_.

The dancer tugs him forward by the wrist with no preamble. Pulls him into a short, hard kiss before dragging him into a cab.

Once inside, Minseok falls into his lap. Teasing. Featherlight. He works his hands under the waistband of Tao’s straining pants, small, nimble fingers moving in fleeting, barely-there brushes as Tao bites back a moan. Minseok’s nose, lips drag across his bobbing Adam’s apple. He lets out these quiet little hums, eyelashes kissing at his jawline, and Tao trembles as he writhes, arches towards the too-soft pressure.

Tao’s fingernails bite into his palms as Minseok’s thumb skims over head of his cotton-covered cock with a light tinkling laugh.

The promise, the _promise_ —

Minseok extinguishes it as soon as they stumble through the door of Tao’s apartment.

“Do you think just because you pay me, you own me?” Minseok asks. Tao swallows, shakes his head. “You think you _deserve_ me? Think you’re special, Tao?”

“No, but I—I… _want_ to be…”

Minseok’s hands are caressing along his jawline, tilting his head downward, so Tao is meeting his eyes.

“Get on your knees.”

Tao does. Right there. In the middle of his entryway. He splays his hands across Minseok’s ass to drag him closer, working off his pants, nuzzling at his cock, and Minseok breathes his name, whispers that he’s pictured this before. Tao—fuck—Tao on his knees for him, sucking him off.

Tao groans as he peels off Minseok’s boxers. And his lips catch on the ridge as he sucks him into his mouth, suckling at the head slow and soft, for show. His eyes skitter up to the lean expanse of Minseok’s body, to the shadows cast by the fluorescent light as Minseok looms heavy and imposing over him. Tao catches his eyes, the way they flutter to half mast in pleasure, as Tao bobs forward.

"Do you let all the other boys suck your cock?" he murmurs coyly.

Minseok thumbs at his eyebrow, the pad of his finger whispering from over Tao’s eyelids to his cheekbone, to where he’s pressing against Tao’s cheek. And Tao moans, eyes fluttering shut.

“Only the pretty ones.”

Tao moans at that, and Minseok’s hips shift forward, buck hard.

Tao gags briefly before licking, his tongue sloppy and hot, and Minseok tugs at his hair, guiding the pace of his bobs to something fast and dirty.

“You’re so pretty,” he says, voice almost drunk with the praise. “You’re so beautiful, Tao.”

Fuck my face, he wants to say. Move just like you do on stage, but do it—do it just for me. Do it in my mouth.

But instead he lets instinct, the guiding principle of Minseok’s body, the minute involuntary shifts of Minseok’s hips, guide his rhythm. He coaxes out as many quiet, breathy, beautiful sounds as he can. Tongue, lips, fingers working in tandem to make Minseok moan his name.

“Do you want to come in my mouth?” Tao asks, voice wrecked and ruined. Even to his own ears.

Minseok lets out this tense, brittle laugh, dragging his fingernails through Tao’s hair.

“No— _no_ —” Minseok pauses the smooth bucks of his hips. His voice is dark, rough. “ _No_. I—ah—want to come across your stomach. Your chest. Maybe the back of your thighs.” And his hands are bold as he lists. “Want to smear it into your skin.”

And Tao, Tao wants that, too. Acknowledges that with a whimper.

“Stop,” Minseok groans, voice pushing him back so Tao stumbles on his ass.

 

His voice turns hard again as he bends forward, grips at Tao’s hair, tugging him upwards.

“Did you think,” he asks, “that I’d just spread my legs and let you fuck me? Is that why—why you paid so much money?”

“No no no.” Minseok’s grip doesn’t slacken so he curls further forward, fingers skittering up Minseok’s tense arms, knees falling open. “I want you to—want you to—”

Minseok is caressing his cheek then. And Tao knows he’s passed a test as Minseok tugs him to his feet, kisses his neck as he asks where his room is.

Minseok orders him to undress, drapes himself over Tao’s naked body after he’s stripped, too. Slow and efficient now that it’s not for show. And Tao barely has a chance to resent missing it before Minseok is sucking at his jawline. Dragging his hard cock against Tao’s stomach. Pressing him down hard onto his unmade bed.

“You’re so big, Tao,” he praises hotly. “So strong.”

His hands run down Tao's body in something like reverence. Like appreciation. He squeezes at his biceps, speaks into Tao’s neck. Purring.

“You could probably hold me up. Hmmmm. Hold me down. Hold me open.”

Tao gasps.

“Is that what you want?”

Tao stammers, chokes. His whimper catches in his throat.

“No? You want me to fuck you? _My_ cock inside of _you_? For me to hold you up. Hold you down. Hold you open?”

Tao’s hands tangle in Minseok’s hair, drag him into his kiss. Minseok complies easily. Hand around his neck, thumb fluttering around his jawline as he kisses him fast and dirty and hard, tongue hot and filthy as it tangles with his. Tao is breathless, whining when he pulls away.

Minseok speaks against his lips now, so Tao can taste his words.

“Do you want me to fuck you nice and hard? Until you’re begging for more. _Answer_ , Tao.”

“ _Yes_. The—the dresser,” he gasps.

Minseok cocks an eyebrow. Tao scrambles, rifles clumsily for it—the condom and lube—as Minseok watches him.

“Spread your legs.”

“ _Yes_.”

 

Minseok braces one arm against Tao’s hips to hold him down as he works him open, and Tao can’t help but moan as he watches the veins in his arms shift. As he feels the steady strength in Minseok movements. The slick pleasure of it as he’s eased opened and desperate.

Tao tips his head back, writhes down with a sudden breathless moan as Minseok grazes his prostate, skimming it with the tip of his finger, and Minseok stops to pinch his thigh.

“Stay still,” he says, and Tao whimpers, desperately fisting the sheets. Minseok leans forward, licking at the pulsing tip of his cock. And Tao’s thighs tremble from the exertion.

Tao curls forward, fingers smudging at Minseok’s eyeliner, and Minseok fucking _smiks_. And even with Tao’s cock in his mouth, Tao knows, Minseok’s in control.

He pops off briefly, meeting Tao’s eyes. Precome glistens off Minseok’s sinfully slick lips, and Tao bucks up towards his mouth with a bitten off whine, asking for more. Minseok’s tongue traces over a vein as he drags it wide and hot, and Tao whimpers as he hums against his pulsing flesh, takes more and more into his mouth. The curl of his cupid’s bow is flush against Tao’s trembling navel.

And his fingers, the fingers inside of him, two and then three are quick, efficient, methodical. They’re small, thin, but Tao moans as the watches the veins in his arms flesh and relax, watches the shadows dance across the planes of his face.

“Minseok,” he breathes. “ _Fuck_.”

“I want to break you apart,” Minseok pants, pulling away, fisting him tightly, his breath scorching against Tao’s saliva-slick cock. “I want to fucking _ruin_ you.”

“ _Do_.”

 

Minseok collapses beside him on the mattress, drags a dazed Tao to straddle his waist. “Ride me,” he urges, the sound of latex snapping into place loud and resounding. “I want you to ride me.”

Tao groans, spends a beat too long just _staring_ at the contrast of pristine white against flushed skin and pink hair. Before Minseok slaps his thigh.

“Ride me,” he reminds him. “Ride me, Tao.”

Tao does, shifting, so that he can feel the hard pressure of Minseok’s cock against the swell of his ass. He manuevers until he’s sinking fully onto it, fingernails biting into Minseok’s skin, dragging red and angry at the exquisite stretch.

“Feels so good,” Minseok breathes, face pinching with pleasure. “So good.”

Tao moans.

And Minseok throws an arm across his shoulders. Forceful, hard, he drags Tao into a loud clumsy kiss, soft lips smacking obscenely as he moans into his mouth, swiveling his hips minutely, cock hot and heaving and hard _inside_ of him. Tao’s lips tremble against Minseok’s as he pants near Minseok’s open mouth. Tao grinds back experimentally, whimpers.

“Brace— _fuck_ —” Minseok blinks his eyes closed, eyebrows furrowing. “Just—fucking brace yourself and fuck yourself down,” he orders, voice husky, jagged. “Fuck yourself down on my cock.”

Tao whimpers, rhythm sloppy, but movements eager as he rises and falls, grinding down on every descent, relishing in the bitten off moan that Minseok makes every times he does.

Tao looks down at Minseok’s wrecked appearance, where the glitter and black of his eyemakeup is smeared, streaked towards his brow bone, where the sweat is beading along his forehead, darkening his dusty pink hair.

“So beautiful,” he rambles. “You’re so beautiful, Minseok. So—so—”

“Keep going,” Minseok urges, guiding him harder. “Keep going, Tao. My pretty, pretty Tao.”

But Tao’s head lolls forward from pleasure. When an experimental shift has Minseok’s cock nudging at his prostate. And he sags forward with a loud whine, grinding back and forth mindlessly with soft whimpers, broken chants of Minseok’s name.

Minseok locks his hips into place as he fucks upwards, then. Thrusts heaving and forceful, dragging presses forward as Tao jerks with the pleasure of it.

“Fuck—I’m fucking—touch yourself, Tao.”

Tao reaches down. Tugs once, twice as he meets Minseok’s heavy, dark eyes. And comes with a loud moan, falling forward.

And he knows—even in the throes of— by the way Minseok’s hands become suddenly bruising around his hips, by the way his hips stutter-fuck up in tight tight circles, by the sound he releases—beautiful soft sound—that Minseok is coming, too.

Tao writhes down in an attempt to drag it out, and Minseok tugs him into another kiss, panting “so pretty, my Tao. So pretty” as he pulses hot and heavy inside of him.


End file.
